Maloch'Ra

Who am I?

Beelzebub, Belial, Satan and Lucifer; Mephistopheles, Judas, Leviathan and maybe even Benedict Arnold. Take your pick. I've been called all that and more, and none of it's right, anyway.

You gonna ask me what I do for a living now, or is that already obvious?

Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know, I miss the days when people still believed in devils that haunt the night. Not to mention, I miss the days when a lady'll shake a man's hand when he offers it... I guess you're asking after all. Well, even if you're not, I like to come clean with my, ah, friends. So, here it is: I've come for your soul.

But see, I'm a merciful demon.  So I'm giving you a week to enjoy the finer (heh heh, final) pleasures of this life.  I suggest you use your remaining time on this planet in the most productive way possible: loafing about, eating junk food, getting laid, vandalizing suburban garage doors.  When the week's up - exactly 7 days from this second, this instant - you'll go to hell.

Don't worry!  It's not as bad as it sounds.  Lemme let you in on a secret.  The good people?  Go to hell.  We just do that false advertising shit because otherwise everyone falls all over themselves trying to flood our gates and - unfortunately - we're a closed community.

So, see?  It's not so bad.  I'll see you in a week.  Until then, if you need to reach me, feel free to call!  1-800-GO-2-HELL.  Leave a message at the insane cackling if I'm out.  Or you can always try my mobile unit: 1-800-UNLEASH, ext. HELL.  If all else fails and you can't get ahold of me, but you really need some entertaining?  Call S'halilial at 1-800-HEAVENS and ask her how much she's charging these days.  Last time I visited, her rates were something along the orders of a nickel a pop, if you know what I mean.

Hmm?  Heavens?  Oh, that's just a joke she likes to play.  Nooooo worries.  Not like she's really an angel or anything.

Come on, would I lie to you?